


Of Misery and Friendship

by RedemptionByFire (steelneena)



Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, doesn't really jive with it as well as I thought, hopefully it's just angsty enough, in which cooper is the definition of repression, somehow though the, they're just a mess of emotions who am i kidding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 06:49:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8834596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelneena/pseuds/RedemptionByFire
Summary: "I was in misery, and misery is the state of every soul overcome by friendship,"All that happens when Audrey is saved from One Eyed Jack's, and the events that follow.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lynzee005](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynzee005/gifts).



> The lovely/awesome Lynzee005 and I are doing a little fic exchange! This is her fulfilled prompt. She asked for the time in between when Audrey is rescued from One Eyed Jack's and brought to the Bookhouse and the scene break. It's been an absolute pleasure and I'll gladly do it again anytime. Just ask!  
> Unbeted, but underwent some rough edits. Also contains some direct dialogue from the episode.

_“Harry this isn’t the first time my actions have brought suffering to someone I care about in the name of doing what I had to do!”_

* * *

The drive back across the border was conducted in the most minute of precise agonies. For an instant, Cooper had been torn between riding the back with Audrey, and driving the vehicle himself. He’d barely had the thought by the time he’d made up his mind; Truman was in the driver’s seat, Hawk had hopped in shotgun and Dale had quickly but gently manoeuvred Audrey’s prone form into the back, allowing her to lie across the seats before lifting her upper body, and sliding into the seat, allowing her to rest back into his arms.

He held her the whole way, careful of every bump on the road, every jostle. She muttered under her breath occasionally, but the noise from the tires on the pavement muffled her quiet sounds entirely. No one else spoke.

Distantly, Cooper was aware that his jaw ached. It felt as though he’d been holding the same expression for hours on end, dire and resigned. He started from his reverie when Audrey’s head lolled a little against his shoulder. He looked down at her, but she hadn’t come to. If anything, she was farther gone than before. The pressure in Cooper’s jaw grew.

He lost himself to the flashing blur of grays and blacks out the window. They flew by in a breeze, like paint across a canvas. Formless, but full of motion.

Time passed.

“Coop,” Nothing. “Coop,” Again, a bit more firmly. It gained his attention. “We’re here,”

He extricated her with the same gentleness he’d shown before, but there was urgency in his movements. Cooper had spent enough time in One Eyed Jack's, and (long before he’d ever heard of Twin Peaks) at the DEA, to suspect what had been done to-

Doors opened, one after another, to make way for him, for the precious burden he carried.

“We’re all set up-,”

Cooper didn’t waver. He was across the room and to the bed before the Bookhouse Boy had a chance to finish his sentence. Almost clinically, he laid Audrey on the mattress. Head down first, then the torso, situated the legs, removed the arm from around him, focus back, _evaluate, evaluate…_

Already in the car he’d willed himself to remain removed from the situation. To be collected in the time of crisis, when they had no one else to call on, and his ability and general knowledge would have to be enough. _Had to be…_

His hand went to her petal soft cheek, slid down to the carotid, rested the pads of his fingers there, _clinical, clinical…_

“Sluggish pulse,” The second hand rose, rested on her forehead, while the first lifted her eyelid with a feather-light touch. “Pupils constricted,” Brought the hand over her lips, parted, tips of his fingers, of his thumb, pressing into the flesh of her cheek, feeling for her breaths. “Breathing: slow and shallow,”

Recited like a list from a textbook, memorized for a verbal assessment.

Reached down to grasp her at the delicate wrist, pushed the sleeve of the soft, pale pink sweater up her arm, fingers feeling gentle at the crevice of her elbow, the veins of her forearm.

“Needle marks. Most likely heroin,” He took her hand in his own, looked down again to inspect.

She moved, breathed a word.

“Daddy?”

Hawk had said something, but Cooper’s attention was unwavering, his gaze riveted.

“Can you see me? Can you see me, Daddy?”               

He brought his hand to her face once more.

“Audrey, you’ve got to stay awake,”

“Can you catch me? Can you?”

He ghosted his fingers over the blush of her skin, caressed there, tender, terrified, and on task, all at once.

“Talk to me Audrey,” Nothing. “Come on, stay awake,” A hint of desperation. “Audrey!”

“It’s so heavy- Hand at my throat. It hurts me. Oh god, it hurts me!”

Imperceptibly, his brow furrowed at her statement. She pulled pitifully at the collar of her sweater, the words coming almost unintelligible. “Black hole. I can’t breathe!” Her tone was beginning to escalate, pleading. “Help me? Please help me,” (Inside he’d broken, cracked, shattered. Only his eyes betrayed it, but no one could have seen.)

Cooper’s hand moved again to caress her cheek. It was an involuntary response, something primal, a reaction, maybe learned, maybe inherent. He didn’t know. Wherever it had surfaced from, the memory was lost in the swirling mist of waking from long forgotten childhood nightmares. Even then he hadn’t known a terror so acute as the one that held him in that moment. “I-I’m sinking, I’m sinking!” Her fear was exquisite. He felt the pain of it lance across his features, as they molded with concern.

“It’s alright. It’s alright, Audrey, I’m here. Audrey? I’m right here,” Desperation had finally edged its way into his words.

Audrey pressed her hand against his, and long lashes flickered and parted. Her lips fell open. Miraculous. He had pulled her back from the Abyss, if only for a moment. Drawn to the comfort of him, she ran her fingers against his, grasping at them for purchase where they rested against her cheek. He, tender, she, frantic. As if in disbelief, she leaned a bit forward to look at him.

Audrey’s open adoration, even in her muddled state, discomfited him.

She fell back against the pillow, apparently believing the evidence of her eyes. “I prayed! I prayed that you would come! And you did,” She smiled the smile of those who saw miracles in nature where only there was science. She smiled the smile of those who believed they were saved.

Saddened, Cooper couldn’t bear to smile back, but that quality of tender fondness must have returned to his eyes, because Audrey’s half gasping sobs were stymied momentarily and she rolled into his lap, into his embrace and he was lost.

As she sobbed into him, Cooper covered her, gentle, his arm a shield _on_ her shoulder, his body leaning into the space above her, rocking her on the bed. He murmured soothing words, nothings lost to the emptiness of the moment.

Somewhere, in his perception, Cooper noticed that Hawk had left them. They were alone.

A settling ball of anguish in his gut reminded the Agent that the worst was yet to come.

* * *

 In his head, Dale listed the withdrawal symptoms: _nausea_ , _abdominal cramps_ , _tearing_ , _runny nose_ , _sweats_ , _chills_ , _excessive yawning_ , _muscle cramps, bone aches. Each present in a timeline consistent with the usage habits of the person in question. For someone who is not an abuser, or has not continuously used, the withdrawal symptoms begin within 6 to 12 hours of the last dosage, and generally peak in two to three days._

She was shivering in his arms, and beads of sweat glistened on her forehead. He let out a heavy breath, and his brow furrowed.

“Hawk?” He called.

“Coop?” Came the reply. Hawk had poked his head in the door.

“Can you get me a cloth, some ice?”

“Be right with you,”

Dale immediately returned his attention to Audrey’s shaking form.

“Audrey? Audrey? Are you with me?”

She murmured in response, her eyelids fluttering.

“Too…too warm,”

“I know, Audrey. I know,” He petted at her hair, his voice low. It was agonizing, watching her there.

 _Diane, I’ve never felt…_  His thoughts melted away. _That isn’t quite true, is it Diane? I have felt more helpless than this, but I’ve never felt less_ helpful _in my life._

Hawk knock resounded in the room, and, for the first time since he’d sat down on the bed beside her, Dale stood.

“Thank you, Hawk,” He said sincerely, offering up a brief smile. “I appreciate you hanging around. It means a lot,”

“My pleasure, Cooper,” Hawk peered around Cooper for a moment. “Uh, Coop? Maybe I oughta set this stuff down and you can help Miss Horne over there.

Concerned, Dale swung around. Audrey, it seemed, was in the process of removing her sweater. “Audrey…” He walked steadily back over to her. By that time, her sweater was on the floor, and she’d already rearranged herself several times.

Dale sank onto the mattress again, and reached to the side table where Hawk had left a basin of water, a bowl of ice, an glass and a cloth. Even more comprehensive than he’d asked for. Deputy Hawk was ever diligent, and Dale found himself more and more thankful for it as his time in Twin Peaks progressed.

 _Chills_. He thought. _And sweats_. _Simultaneously._

“Audrey, I’m going to try and cool you down, alright?” He reached across to the basin, dampened the cloth and wrapped it around a chunk of ice. She rolled, soft locks of her raven hair fell across her face, and she finally acknowledged him, blinking from behind her hair.

“Agent Cooper?” Her voice was tentative.

“Are you with me Audrey?” Without thinking, Dale let his free hand come to rest on her bare shoulder, his thumb rubbing lightly at the soft skin there.

“It’s so warm,” She thrashed again. “Too warm,” Without thinking, he glanced down, away from her face, and was met with the wide expanse of her peach-flushed chest, clothed in a tasteful, black lace bra. Her breasts heaved, and he immediately reverted his eyes. _There’s no telling what happened to her in that…place._ He returned his attention to the task at hand, dabbing the cloth at her forehead, around her neck and shoulders.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

The muscle spasms started around two hours later. He tried to sooth her as best as he could but her cries were heart wrenching. An hour later, they’d subsided, Audrey had fallen asleep, and Hawk had relieved him of his duties, temporarily.

It was past 2 in the morning by the time he’d returned from his brief meeting with Ben Horne, and taken up his post by Audrey’s bedside once more. He sunk into the chair that Hawk had pulled over while he’d sat with her. Cooper’s talk with Harry had got him thinking, which of course, was the opposite of what Truman most likely hoped it would do, considering that he’d outright told Dale that he thought too much.

All he could do was think! Dale had spent so much of his life trying to push away his emotional connections, trying to turn off his inherent want to connect with people beyond the professional requirements of his chosen profession. He’d failed in that objective, time and time again through his life.

With Audrey, he told himself, he _had_ to succeed.

So far, the outlook on that was poor too. He’d covered her with the discarded sweater, hours ago, as soon as her thrashing had calmed, but the image of her remained burned into his memory. Overwhelmed by the situation, and lack of sleep, he ran his hands through his hair, pressing back the loose strands.

Dale's discussion with Audrey’s father had sickened him. _What kind of a man would-_

He shook his head again, and looked wearily down at his sleeping charge before allowing himself to lean back a moment and shut his eyes. He didn’t drift into sleep, but allowed himself to control his breathing, and fall into a loose meditation.

“Agent Cooper?”

Her voice broke through to Dale immediately, and he sat up in one swift movement, slipping his hand around hers.

“Audrey, how are you feeling?” Acting purely on reflex, he checked her pulse again. It was steadier than before, and he felt his nerves calming even as the thud of blood in her veins thrummed beneath his fingers.

“Better. Sore. I-Can I have some water?”

“Of course,”

She was surprisingly lucid, certainly more so than he’d anticipated. Perhaps the dosages hadn’t been as bad as he’d first believed, but he dismissed the notion. Better to be prepared for the worst than under prepared.

“Just a little bit now,” Dale’s hand snaked around the back of her neck, helping to draw her upwards so she could sip at the liquid. He let her back down, sliding his hand out from between the pillow and the dark shadow of her hair. “Better?”

“Yes,” She stared unabashedly at him, and he found himself unable to look away. “Much,”

There was a period of comfortable silence between them; it nestled gently in that space, and Dale felt it press on him, warm.

“You should get some rest,”

It took him a moment to realize that it was Audrey who had spoken, when the words made so much more sense had they come from him. But they had been decidedly feminine sounding, and he hadn’t opened his mouth, so it couldn’t have been him who spoke.

Processing all this, Dale only blinked, once, slowly, in response.

“You’ve been running on fumes this whole time. I’ll be fine, Agent Cooper. Really,”

“If you’re sure, Audrey,” Even though Cooper knew she was right, that he needed the rest - was practically useless without it – he wanted to protest.

“You’ve taken good care of me,” She assured him. The turnabout was throwing Dale off. “Now you’re got to take care of yourself. And-,“She poked a feeble finger at his chest. The tip landed firmly against his pectoral, and, Dale noted, he was entirely too aware of it. “No coffee!”

“Duly noted, Miss Horne. Duly noted,”

Cooper let all pretense fall away from him. It was like shedding a skin; the weight rolled off his shoulders and he sagged, smiling down wearily at Audrey as he did.

She smiled back up at him in return.

He got up, after she’d settled back again and closed her eyes. When he was halfway to the door, Audrey spoke again.

“Thank you, Agent Cooper,”

He merely inclined his head after a pause, and exited the room, pulling her door shut behind him.

* * *

Hours later, though it only felt like minutes, Cooper woke with a startled jerk, leaving behind the vestiges of a strange dream. He’s sat forward in the cushy armchair with such force that he’d given himself whiplash. Groaning, he rubbed his hand along the back of his neck, and blinked blearily.

“…-get Cooper?”

Caught off guard, Cooper jerked again, aggravating the whiplash, and looked up.

“Audrey!”

“I…I-You weren’t there,” She bit her lip.

Audrey was swaying on her feet a little, but nothing out of the range of the expected, considering her situation. She shivered a little too, drawing her arms closer together over her chest. Dale's gaze tracked the movement down from her face, then quickly looked away.

 “Oh, Audrey,” He stood up, ignoring the faint dizziness and leant over to grab an afghan off the nearby couch. She was shaking, wary of the unfamiliar surroundings. Audrey wasn’t just cold, as he’d first concluded.

“I couldn’t find my sweater,”

Dale’s eye met Audrey’s with tenderness as he wrapped the blanket around Audrey tightly. Their hands brushed together as he brought the ends in front of her. He transferred them from his hands to her’s, and she drew it up to her chest, tightly.

“Thank you, Agent Cooper,”

Dale faltered, then forced a smile. “Let’s get you back to your room,” Tentative, the gentleman in Dale itched to put his hand out to steady her, retracted his arm and then- “Here, let me- “. She leaned into his touch and allowed him to lead her back to the room.

There was a space between them, despite their closeness and Dale could feel it cloying in his airways, thick like humid air. 

Audrey sat on the bed. She didn’t look settled, or comfortable. Just weary. She stared at her hands, clasping them and unclasping them. They jittered, nearly uncontrollable.

 _Still detoxing_.

Logically, Dale had known that her ordeal was still far from over. The small symptoms could last well into the coming week, and emotionally…

“You should drink something,” He held out the glass and she took it gently.

He was _trained_ for this! He’d taken special courses and been certified to deal with situations just like this!  He’d had plenty of cases over the years involving similar circumstances and- Doc Hayward still needed to come by to do a preliminary examination and- He should know better, he should, he should…

Dale turned his back to Audrey, busied himself with the things on the end table.

_You’re too close to this, Dale. Far too close._

“Audrey, in the mor-“

“Agent Cooper, I’m really-“

They spoke simultaneously, and while Audrey let out a soft laugh, Cooper had steeled himself.

_You’ve let your feelings hinder you before, and always to disastrous results._

“Go ahead,” Audrey said.

Cooper turned and faced her, a crease furrowing his brow. He moved to sit next to, unthreatening.

“In the morning, we’ll have Doc Hayward come check you over. To make sure you’re…well,”

Solemnly, Audrey nodded. “I understand, Agent Cooper,”

“You should try and rest more. I’ll stay here this time, until you're asleep. If there’s anything you need, you just ask,” His tone was all business, kind, but not emotional. He steadied his gaze, and caught Audrey looking back, a curious glint in her eye, like she could see right through him. Dale felt unsettled, unsteady, and suddenly their proximity was far too intimate.

She leaned in towards him, pale, except for high spots of colour on her cheeks and a glossy sheen to her eyes.

 _More symptoms presenting._ He tried and failed to protect himself behind the familiar protocol and procedure, as her hand reached out to him, trembling and-

Dale stood.

“You look feverish,” He put some of the less melted ice cubes onto the cloth and wrapped it up. “You should lay down, Audrey. I don’t want your condition to worsen,”

She didn’t reply, and something in his stomach clenched uncomfortably, a pain that he couldn’t quite identify.

Audrey took the bundled ice and held it to the back of her neck. Spying the sweater, which must have fallen as she thrashed in her sleep, Dale hurriedly retrieved it.

He held it like an offering. Audrey’s lips parted, and she inhaled, as if about to say something, but she never spoke, and Cooper put great effort into not turning away again. He’d let her down easy before, and Cooper was a man of honour. He put great stock in staying true to his word, to his ideals.

He needed to be focused, he needed to keep distractions at bay, no matter how pleasant the source. He needed to remain aloof, professional, detached. He needed…

Dale also _wanted_.

When Audrey took the sweater from him, obviously taking care not to brush her hand against his, Dale released a sigh of relief he’d never realized he’d held in.

The tension was palpable.

“I’m really feeling much better, Special Agent,” Audrey began in earnest. “Really. The worst… you were with me,”

“This should never have happened,” The words were rash and they left his mouth with such a strange and aggressive vigor that Dale startled himself. “This should never have happened. You shouldn’t have been in this situation and I-“

“It doesn’t matter,” Audrey’s response was placid but firm, unyielding. Dale found himself once more amazed at the simple yet masterful command Audrey had over herself.

 _I could really use a lesson in that right about now…_ His subconscious betrayed him, but somehow it managed to bring him back to his senses.

“Doesn’t matter? Audrey, you could have died!” Unbridled emotion leaked from his voice, and for another second longer, he forgot to berate himself, to check his admittedly passionate response.

“Then it would have been my fault and not yours,” Despite her firm tone, Audrey’s eyes were still glossy and her colour had taken on an unhealthy pallor, sending a slim tendril of shock through Dale. He let loose a heavy sight.

“This isn’t the time to debate semantics. You’re ill Audrey. Lie down. Please,”

Something in her expression tightened.

“Don’t you dare blame yourself, Agent Cooper,” Her voice was quiet, dangerously so. “I made a choice. My choice, of my own volition. Not everything is on you,”

Cooper was taken aback, and found himself bereft of words. Audrey did lie down, but she pulled her legs up to herself and faced away. Even though he’d been struck with the feeling that he ought to have told her about his discussion with her father, Cooper decided to wait. Despite the imperative nature of such a discussion, it seemed inappropriate to mention, considering the present circumstances.

He turned to leave, without another word, but, much to his surprise, Audrey spoke.

“Where are you going?”

 _I thought you’d prefer it if I left,_ were the words that ran through his thoughts, but instead, Dale opted to say. “I thought I’d get a cup of coffee,”

“Oh,”

Mentally he slapped himself for the reply - she'd outright asked him _not_ to have any coffee, and grudgingly Dale admitted to himself that she was right. He waited briefly for a reply, but when none was forthcoming, he continued on his way out of the room, feeling dissatisfied and unsettled by the turn in the stomach.

Audrey Horne was under his skin.

Dale found no relief removed from her presence. He found no relief in his coffee, in the warmth of the fire, or in the book he’d been absently perusing. He’d thought to try one of his meditation techniques, from Tibet, but his mind wasn’t in the mood to be cleared it seemed. And, even after the long hours he’d spent awake that evening, despite the rapid approach of dawn, the blessed release of sleep escaped him.

How did that old saying go? _Never go to bed angry._

The old cliché had its merits, but it lacked in authenticity of its psychological application, or so he’d learned in one of the many classes he’d attended on psychology back in his Haverford days. All the same, he knew he wouldn’t find rest until he’d made peace with Audrey. So, Cooper determined, he was in for a sleepless…early morning. It was nearly 4 by his watch, and there would be little enough time left to sleep any as it was. And if Audrey was asleep, he wasn’t going to wake her. That would hardly win him any favour.

A dilemma then, which Cooper quickly solved the way he did most things: he applied himself to his work, allowing all else to simply fall away…

* * *

The new morning saw Dale asleep, leaned back in his chair, work in disarray on the desk before him. Audrey smiled. Her firmness the night before had cooled, along with the effects of the withdrawal. There was no regret in her, but then she hadn’t really been angry to begin with. Usually, Agent Cooper was the only one who understood. Her friend, who listened, patient and understanding, when she needed him most, even when she hadn’t known it. In the minutes after she’d woken, and before she’d arose, Audrey had contemplated his actions.

It had been a long and stressful night. He was running high on emotions, on adrenaline and anxiousness. He was concerned, and, unlike usual, was in no state to be completely rational, despite the fact that he seemed to be eternally so, calm, cool, collected.

But Audrey knew better. She’d gotten quite good at people reading in her years spent being mostly solitary and observant. Though she was missing a few pieces to his puzzle, Audrey knew she had Agent Cooper pretty much pegged.

He smiled far too often when in public, putting forth a generally cheery persona, which wasn’t actually a façade, but did hide his more serious nature, which came forth exactly when it was required, most certainly a characteristic of his FBI training.

Agent Cooper had desires. Though he’d been infuriatingly professional, he hadn’t managed to hide that from her, (Truth be told, she wasn’t sure he’d tried to at all.) but he did do a good job of prioritizing, of pushing away those things he desired in favour of serving his purpose, and filled the emptiness left by his desire with simple pleasures, delighting in his coffee and pie, in the environment.

Yes, Audrey was sure, somewhere along the line Dale had learned his lesson and learned it well. He may have wanted her – Lord knew she could tell he had wanted her! – but trial and error had taught him better. The night before, however…there was definitely a crack in that armour of his, a crack that had potential.

The potential to be both dangerous as well as useful…

In the current situation, though, Audrey had to concede that it was more dangerous than she would have liked. Resigned to the fact that things would inevitably be staying the way they were, Audrey had gotten up, put on her discarded sweater, and ventured out from her room into the main space.

There, she found Agent Cooper, exactly the way he’d fallen asleep. Her eyes and the set of her mouth softened at the sight of him.

Giving in to her own silly desire, Audrey ran a tender hand over his hair, smoothing back the disheveled strands.

 _Later_ , she decided. Later, they could talk about all that had happened that night. About what she had done, about all he had done for her, about what had passed between them. There would be time, later.

It was his turn to sleep.


End file.
